


Finding Our Way

by Sweetgirl2019



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Feels, Bisexual Castiel, Bisexual Dean, Doctor Castiel, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Falling In Love, Firefighter Dean Winchester, First Meeting, First Time, Homophobic Language, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, Minor Dean Winchester/Other(s), Original Female Character - Freeform, POV Dean, POV shift, Romance, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 11:13:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetgirl2019/pseuds/Sweetgirl2019
Summary: AU: After a rough start in life, Dean's finally settled down in his career but his personal life is completely different. All he thinks he's good for is a one night stand. No one wants him more than a night so why bother staying the next day. When he finds the courage to visit a bar he'd always driven past but was too chicken to walk in, his gaze falls on a pair of blue eyes and everything changes. Bisexuality is all so new to him. After a miscommunication almost ends what could have been, Dean and Cas run into each other again and try to navigate their way through a relationship. The feelings are strong from first gaze but can Dean move past the damage his Father inflicted upon him and let Castiel in? Can their love stand every test thrown at them?
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/John Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Supernatural or any of the characters

*****  
  


Blinking himself awake, Dean let his eyes take in his surroundings until they landed on the large painting pinned to the wall up ahead. The image of a laughing pig, adorned with devilish horns and a red smear of blood dripping from its teeth was enough to snap him fully awake. He took a breath and suddenly felt the weight in bed beside him. Slowly turning to the left, his gaze was met with a wave of messy blond hair. Memories of purple nurples flashed through his mind and he groaned from realization, running a hand across his face. The woman beside him continued sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of Dean’s presence. Was her name Mona? Tina? Rita? His head hurt trying to think of all the different names she could have been. When he glanced back towards her again, he let his eyes trail across her smooth skin, barely covered by the thin sheet. As fun as last night had been, Dean felt empty looking at her now, same as he always did.

With a heavy sigh, he spun around and reached for his clothing, strewn across the floor beside him. Boxers, jeans, shirt and flannel. When the final button was done, he ran a hand from front to back, hoping to tame the edges of his short hair, and looked up just in time to catch his mirrored reflection. His eyes were hangover red but there was a tiredness in them that went deeper than his drunken escapade. When the heaviness in his heart grew too tense for that time of day, he tore his gaze away. His companion tilted her body, sensing the surrounding emptiness, and blindly reached her hand out towards him. Dean stood frozen at the foot of the bed, hoping his stillness would deter her from further movement. She made a noise and buried her face in the pillow again, all sense leaving her as sleep dragged her back in.

Catching his breath in relief, he edged towards the bedroom door before stopping and turning back around a final moment. A part of him wanted to stay just once, to take a leap and see what happens. All those similar times he had woken in a stranger’s bed, he had always been the one to sneak away. As much as he wanted to curl against the other body, to let himself have a moment of happiness, he could never bring himself to do it. She was nothing more than a fun time and a way to escape. He hated how that made him sound, using people for a single night to draw away the loneliness but there had been no false promises or pretenses from ether her or him. Both had known where the night would lead and how the morning would eventually end. Deep down, Dean ached to find the love he had always wanted. After the life he had led, he longed to find someone he could call his own, to let himself be loved and love that person in return. But fantasies hardly came true and Dean’s reality was vastly different. Enough verbal beatdowns from his Father ensured he believed a truth that had long ago been hammered into him. He didn’t deserve to find the love he so desperately wanted. All he was good for was warming someone’s bed for a few minutes. Then they would toss him aside when morning came because that’s all Dean Winchester was to them. A way to pass the time, never good enough for commitment. As much as his younger brother Sam had tried to make him see different, to undo years of damage, his Father’s words had forever scarred him. 

With a final glance backwards, he left the bedroom and walked out of the apartment. The moment he stepped onto the sidewalk outside, his façade was back in place. Offering a charming smile to an elderly couple walking past him, he ducked across the street and made his way towards the second most precious thing in his life outside of Sammy. Climbing behind the wheel of his ‘Baby’, he took a moment to run his hands across the smoothness. So little in his life had ever brought him true elation but his 1967 Chevy Impala had always been a second home to him. Sitting behind her wheel, he could silence the voices in his head telling him he wasn’t enough, telling him there would never be someone willing to love him. Sitting behind her wheel, he could finally breathe again.


	2. TWO

*****

Covered in smoke from their last fire, Dean rubbed the tiredness away from his eyes. He was at the end of his twenty-four hour shift, looking forward to an amazing forty-eight of recuperation. His firehouse was one of the busiest in the city, their calls always ranging from small grease fires to large industrial blazes over the span of night and day. Making his way through the hall towards the showers, he pulled off his dirty uniform, stashing it in his gym bag and tied a towel at his waist. He waited just a beat for Lieutenant Henriksen to vacate the last of three stalls before quickly slipping inside.

The water was scorching hot as it fell against his skin, just the way Dean liked it. The heat took away the smoke that covered him, removing a bit of his tiredness with it. Once he was showered fresh, he pulled on his jeans and black tee, sliding a dark green flannel on top and made his way towards the common area. Just as he turned the corner to the main doors leading out of the firehouse, an arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him backwards by an inch. He looked up and smiled at his younger brother’s grin, shaking his head as they followed the rest of the men outside.

“So Dean, you got any hot dates planned?” Gordon asked, tossing a glance backwards. “Same girl from the other night?”

“Nah, she was just a one hit wonder,” he replied, ignoring the way Sam rolled his eyes at the words. “Too tired tonight to go bar hopping anyway. Think I’ll just head home.”

“No whisky? No one-night wonder stand?” Gordon teased.  
  
“Come on, let’s leave him alone,” Garth interrupted, smiling kindly when Dean gave him a grateful nod.

“What are you all talking about?”

They turned towards the PIC walking towards them from the ambulance. Jess had a sweet smile as she slipped in beside Sam, holding onto his arm.

“Dean’s sex life,” Gordon said with a snort, the words making Jess crinkle her face in annoyance.

She opened her mouth to comment but stopped when she caught Dean’s gaze. Instead, she turned towards her boyfriend, smiling up at Sam. “Too tired for dinner?”

“No, I’m good if you are,” Sam said, dropping a kiss on top of her head.

She leaned forward to catch Dean’s eyes again. “You joining us tonight?”

“That last fire was rough. Think I’ll just turn in early.”

“Well, we all live in the same house so if you feel hungry, just drop by the kitchen,” she said with a wink as they stopped at Sam’s car.

She climbed inside and they waved the other men goodbye before Sam moved to his door. Dean let his gaze fall across the Dodge Charger and slowly shook his head in dismay. He heard Sam’s chuckle and looked up to see his brother watching him in amusement.

“You still don’t like my car, do you?”

“Sammy, have I taught you nothing? Nothing at all?” Dean started, his voice bordering a whine as he swept his arm backwards toward the Impala. “ _That’s_ a car. What you drive is a cheap impression of one.”

“Are you gonna give me the Impala?” Sam asked, twirling the keys in his hand.

“Have you died and gone to Heaven?” Dean replied.

“Sounds about right,” Sam said with a laugh and opened his door to climb inside. “See you at home.”

Stepping back, Dean watched his brother pull away until a presence over his shoulder made him turn around again.

“You done gazing at your car, idjit?”

Rolling his eyes, Dean raised his gym bag over his shoulder and stepped forward. “Insult me all you want, old man. Leave my Baby out of it.”

Bobby chuckled fondly. “Before you head out, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“If it’s about that girl from last week, I swear I thought her name was Lola!” Dean defended.

“As much as your love life is a scintillating conversation I’m sure we’ll never have, I wanted to talk to you about Victor,” Bobby cut him off. “You know already that he’s moving off to the other side of the country in a couple weeks. That means the Lieutenant spot on Truck is opening up.”

Dean swallowed and nodded along with the words. “I’m sure you’ll find the right fit, Bobby. Heard rumors that maybe Arthur Ketch will take the spot from Firehouse Eleven.”

“No disrespect to Ketch but I got my eyes on someone else,” Bobby said before sighing. “Kid, I’m putting your name up for promotion.”

“Bobby,” Dean started, blinking heavily at the words. “Gordon’s got more years than me on Truck.”

“Yeah, he does and he’s a great firefighter but he doesn’t have what you have,” Bobby cut him off again. “You’re a damn great firefighter, Dean. One of the best I’ve ever seen. You’ve taken all the classes, you’re quick on your feet, you’re smart and more than anything, you’re hungry for it. Always the first one through the door and the last one coming out. The men love you, Dean. They all look up to you, especially Sam.”

Dean could feel the faint blush across his cheeks and quickly cleared his throat to force it away. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes, you idjit,” Bobby said with a grunt. “I’ve already had the talk with HQ and Chief Sinclair was more than happy with the choice.”

“Chief Sinclair’s good with it?” Dean asked, unable to mask his surprise.

“Your Daddy did a real good number on you, didn’t he?” Bobby said, shaking his head thoughtfully. “Go home, get some sleep and get your ass back here in forty-eight. Lots of paperwork we need to get started.”

“Thank you, Chief,” Dean said, smiling at the older man who had been a second Father to him. “For everything, not just this.”

Bobby grunted again. “You wanna thank me? Get your ass over to my place one night this week for dinner. Ellen’s been driving me nuts all angry that she hasn’t seen you.”

“Hey! Sam hasn’t been over for a while, either!”

“Sam’s got a lovely girlfriend,” Bobby reminded.

“So I gotta find myself someone for Ellen to lay off?”

Bobby smiled warmly, nudging his shoulder once more. “That’ll make us all happy, Dean. You know that, boy.”

With a final pat, Bobby turned and made his way back towards the firehouse. Climbing behind the wheel of his Baby, Dean took a moment to sit where he was, letting the conversation wash over him. When the news finally hit, he made two fists and bumped the steering wheel in excitement. The promotion was something he had secretly wanted for the past couple years but he had always been too nervous to voice it out loud. Being a firefighter was everything he knew and loved. He wanted to share the news with Sam and Jess but something else at the corner of his mind took focus. Smiling broadly, he made a choice he’d been too afraid to make before that moment. He finally decided to take a chance.

*****

Castiel stared at the computer screen before him, the words a jumbled mess. Papers laid scattered all around, covering the dining table from end to end. Running a hand through his dark, unruly hair, he leaned back in his chair and made a noise of bitter disappointment. When he felt a presence beside him, he turned to see his nine year old daughter peering at him with an expression he couldn’t place. Her hands were firm at her waist, her dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Eyes squinted, gaze narrow, staring him down.

“What did I do to deserve all of that?” he asked, unable to hide his amusement. “Olivia?”

“You know what!” she exclaimed, walking the few feet of distance and stopping beside him. “It’s your birthday, Dad!”

“Yes, I know it is and I loved the sweater you gave me and the beautiful chocolate cake,” Castiel replied, smiling warmly at his daughter.

Her eyes narrowed even more as she crossed her arms at her chest. “Dad, you can’t stay here all night. It’s your birthday!”

“She’s right, Cassie.”

Castiel groaned at his older brother’s voice, tilting in his chair to watch Gabriel stand behind his niece.

“You turn thirty-five only once, little bro,” Gabriel said with a toothy grin. “Mrs. Banks from next door has already agreed to watch Olivia for the night. She’s coming by in a few minutes actually.”

“And why would my daughter need a babysitter tonight?” Castiel asked, looking between the two.

“So you can go and find someone, Dad!” Olivia was the first to speak. “Maybe a nice lady, maybe a nice guy. _Someone_!”

He shook his head at the words, grateful at his own insistence of raising her to be so open and inclusive. She was wise beyond her years, an endearing trait for which he couldn’t fully take the credit. 

“Come on, Cassie. Let’s get you dressed so I can take you out,” Gabriel pressed him, raising his eyebrows in a lewd gesture.

He took a moment in hesitation, wondering if his refusal was worth the incoming argument his brother would give or the waterworks his daughter had perfected to get her way. Finally giving in, he shut his laptop and rose to his feet. Olivia screeched in excitement, grabbing his hand, and dragging him up the stairs to his bedroom. She jumped on the bed, pointing towards his closet and Castiel resigned himself to his fate. With Gabriel leaning against the dresser and both watching him expectantly, he reached between his clothes and withdrew a grey sweater vest.

“Seriously?” Olivia deadpanned. “Dad, you’re supposed to wear a shirt that’ll make someone wanna hook up with you, not think you’re some boring old librarian.”

“Hook up with me?” Castiel exclaimed, turning around to stare his defiant daughter down. “You’re nine years old! How do you even know what that means?”

“Billy Stevens was talking about his mom at recess and how she hooks up with a new guy every weekend,” she said with a shrug.

Castiel’s mouth hung open at the words, snapping out of his bewilderment when he heard Gabriel chuckle beside him.

“Well, I should have a discussion with Billy Stevens,” he muttered.

“And his questionable mother,” Gabriel added. “You think she’s looking for a new friend?”

Castiel tossed him a look of displeasure and Gabriel threw his hands up in defense. Shoving the vest back inside the closet, he searched for a moment and finally pulled out a short sleeve, dark navy button down and black slacks. Gabriel whistled in approval and reached for the items.

“Now _this_ will make someone wanna hook up with you, Cassie!”

“Gabriel!” he hissed, grabbing the clothing back. “Both of you, out of my room.”

“Dad, don’t have a hissy fit. I watch MTV too, you know,” Olivia said as she jumped off the bed.

“MTV? What’s MTV?” Castiel asked, following his daughter to the door.

She and Gabriel exchanged a secret smile and walked out, closing the door behind them. With a heavy exhale, Castiel walked towards his dresser and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Gabriel always insisted he was “incredibly handsome” but he could never really see it. His gaze traveled and fell towards a photo a few inches away, one of Olivia as a baby with his late wife, Anna. They had been close friends and had loved each other in their own way but their relationship had never been the passionate kind from the movies. They were content in their marriage, happy with their life and when Anna had passed, Castiel had gone through a lengthy period of celibacy. He had feared that he would be betraying her memory and honor if he moved on and spent all of his focus on his daughter instead. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to be intimate with another person when Gabriel had revealed a letter Anna had written him before she had passed away. She had asked Gabriel to keep it hidden unless he saw the need arise to reveal it, to help her husband move on from that part of his life. In her letter, Anna had asked him to find happiness, the true kind he had always deserved. To open his heart to a love that could tear him apart and put him back together again. A weight had lifted after reading her words. He had allowed himself to make a final peace with her death and put more focus on his present. But his career and life as a full-time Dad gave him little time to socialize outside his inner circle. He had resigned himself yet again until Olivia had put her tiny foot down three months back. She had made it her mission to find him someone to love, someone who would love him back the same way. He had always tried to keep his home open to all kinds of love and acceptance, to educate his daughter to a tolerant world he wished society would become one day. The dating profile she had created with Gabriel had been made with the best of intentions but his resulting dates were one for the horror books. He had wanted to take a step backwards but neither had allowed him that chance.

Taking another deep breath, Castiel stared up at his reflection again and gave a resolute nod. Although he never had a preference between genders, always attracted more to a person rather than their sex, he had found himself leaning more and more towards men when he entered the dating pool once again. Maybe Prince Charming was waiting to be found by night’s end. Shaking his head, he chuckled at the thought. His last three attempts with men had been dismal at best. Uriel had wanted a hand job in the bathroom midway through the meal, a demand that had Castiel walking out of the restaurant the moment his credit card had been scanned. Balthazar had wanted Castiel to join in on an orgy he had planned. His look of utter devastation when declined was one that Castiel had laughed about all the way home after dinner had ended. The third date had been with Zachariah, a man who had lied about his age by several years on his profile. When the older man had turned his leery smile towards him for the tenth time in a matter of minutes, Castiel had excused himself to use the bathroom. The hostess, a young woman who had given him a look of sympathy when she had led him to his seat at the start of the date, had smirked as she helped him escape.

After three horrendous attempts, Castiel was ready to throw in the towel but Olivia and Gabriel had been adamant. Maybe Prince Charming really _was_ around the corner. Castiel could only wish.


	3. THREE

*****

Dean took a deep breath as he sat inside the Impala. The sound of music made its way to his ears, muted by the heavy door of the front entrance. The bar was nestled at the other end of town, known for welcoming people of every sexual orientation. He’d driven past it once on his way home a couple years back, the name of the bar piquing enough interest that he’d spent the rest of his night scanning Yelp reviews. When he finally made it to the actual web page, the photos that had greeted him had sent a flush all the way down his spine. Littered across the screen were images of different couples, straight, gay and lesbian, all across the spectrum. For so long he had wanted to scratch a certain itch, to let himself explore something different. How would it feel to have strong hands and stubble brushing across his skin instead of the soft curves he always felt with women?

Growing up with John as the only parent, Dean had learned to hide certain parts of himself over the years. His Father had never been one for showing weakness, always getting aggravated when Dean or Sam had shown excitement for something that fell far away from what his definition of masculinity was. On Dean's seventh birthday, John had taken both kids to the local store. It had been one of his better days until the moment Dean had reached for a doll instead of a G.I. Joe. The fit that John had thrown inside the aisle had left Dean in tears. No son of his would like anything queer. As a child, Dean couldn’t understand the difference. Once he had started crying, three year old Sam had done the same. The other shoppers had given John the stink eye as he left the rest of their purchases and dragged both boys out of the establishment. He’d backhanded Dean so hard in the lot, Dean had stood frozen in place. John had seemed shocked at his own actions for a quick moment but his anger had returned as he pushed both boys into their car and sped away. They had never gone back for toys after that.

As years went by, John would always throw a comment here and there. On good days, he would point out every beautiful woman that crossed their path. On bad days, he would go on drunken rages, cursing the world and his life, filling Dean’s ears with every homophobic slur he could find. If Dean had answered too slowly or not answered the way he had wanted, John would raise his hand again. Dean had eventually learned to perfect a mask of indifference. Agreeing with Dad and keeping him happy was easier than the alternative. When Sam had been old enough to start answering back, towering above both Dean and their Dad at sixteen, Dean had always played the peacekeeper between them. All he had wanted was for their family to get along, to let Sam be a kid and grow up without that fearful pit inside his stomach. He tried his hardest to be a good son, to do as his Dad had wanted.

When they had been old enough to make it on their own, one night Sam had had enough. With John on yet another drunken binge, Sam had convinced Dean to leave their crummy one bedroom and all those bad memories behind. The Impala had been Dean’s at that point, ownership and everything in place. The one and only good gift his Dad had every given him. They’d packed up their things and driven through the night, ending up at Bobby’s place the next day. Bobby had taken one look at their faces and welcomed them without question. He had been promoted to Chief at Firehouse Twenty-Seven just months before they had arrived at his doorstep. A couple tours around the building and Dean had fallen in love. He’d excelled at the Fire Academy, breaking all other records before him. When Sam had shown interest after his high school graduation, Dean had been elated. Sam had gone on to break a few of those records at the Academy himself, but some had stayed with Dean’s name. The Winchester brothers had become a bit of a local legend, the best of the best by a lot of opinions. Once Dean and Sam were both on Truck 61 under Lieutenant Henriksen, everything felt like it had fallen into place. Sam starting up a romance with the Paramedic in Charge had been a bonus. Jess had taken a liking to them both when she had transferred to their Firehouse, treating Dean like the brother she had always wanted. John had been out of their lives, the disappearance taking the dark cloud of a bad childhood with him. All that was left was for Dean to fill that final gap.

He’d dated different women the past few years, having relationships with a couple that lasted longer than a weekend in bed. Anna had been the first. She and Dean had met at their local grocery store, both reaching for the last paper towel like a scene in a cheesy romance. But she had been cute and witty and Dean had been quick to charm her away. Their relationship had lasted four months before Anna had put an end. She cared for him deeply but felt that Dean was not all in. They had parted as friends and when he ran into her every now and then, it was always with smiles on their faces. A few months of one night stands had followed, earning Dean a reputation until a bad fire had brought Dean to his knees, not in a good way. Jess had poked and prodded until Dean finally relented, visiting the local gym and accepting the passes she’d given for yoga classes. One look at the instructor and Dean had vowed to make the class a habit. He and Lisa had gotten started hot and heavy. Once the initial heat had worn off, they’d fallen into a comfortable relationship. Her young son Ben had been a bonus. Dean had loved showing the kid the ropes, teaching him everything he had passed on to Sam, wishing his own Father had been different. But after a year of domestic bliss, the itch had started to rise again. As happy as Dean thought he had been, there was something missing between them. He loved Lisa and especially loved the kid but the gap he had wanted to fill was something she couldn’t provide. Their relationship had ended more roughly than it had with Anna. Lisa had accused him of sleeping around, of not loving her and everything else he could imagine. She had been wrong about it all and eventually apologized for her verbal beating but one part of her words had rang true. The love he felt for her was less than what she and Ben deserved. Their second parting had been kinder as Lisa had hugged him tight, wishing his next love would be his truest, one that would allow him to open himself and his heart the way she had wanted. He still saw Ben on occasion, dropping by Lisa’s to fix a leaky sink or mow the lawn every now and then. They considered each other friends but Dean could always see the lingering look that Lisa gave him.

Lifting his gaze to the bar several feet away, Dean took a deep breath and started making his way. He was still dressed in his black jeans and tee, the dark green flannel covering his arms. Jess had bought it for him at Christmas a year back, teasing that it brought out his eyes. His palms were sweaty, his nerves on end but he forced himself to grab the door and step inside. The moment he did, the world didn't end the way his irrational mind had worked up. No one paid him any attention, the loud music blasting through the stereo overhead. One end of the vast room had scattered tables and booths, full of occupants throwing back their drinks and laughing away. The middle was a small dance floor, couples gyrating against each other, lost in their own world. When Dean’s eyes caught on two men holding each other close, exchanging small pecks, Dean flushed and forced his feet towards the end of the bar, hopping onto a stool and leaning forward on the counter. The bartender was a looker, her dark hair falling over her shoulders, tattoo peeking out from the small of her back when she reached up for a bottle on the top shelf. Any other day and Dean would have turned on the charm but tonight was different. Tonight, he was celebrating his promotion and allowing himself to maybe experience something that for years, he had wanted but denied.

The bartender noticed him through the flurry of faces and made her way over, smirk permanently in place. “What do you want, Sugar?”

He saw her nametag and looked up with a smile. “Something dark and hard, Pamela.”

She laughed and reached for a bottle a few feet away, pouring him a glass and one for herself. When she leaned in and clinked her glass against his, he smiled and downed the drink, squinting only a little as the liquid burnt his throat. Alcohol had become an escape over the years. As much as he had vowed to never follow in his Father’s footsteps, he couldn’t stop himself from turning to the booze whenever he was at his lowest. Tonight, it gave him courage, loosening up the nerves that had him wound up tight.

“So you know my name but you have me at a disadvantage,” Pamela started.

“Dean,” he replied, motioning for another shot.

“Well, Dean, haven’t seen you here before. Your first time?” she asked, watching as he downed his second drink.

“Got a promotion at work. Drove by this place a bunch of times. Figured tonight I’d see what all the fuss is about.”

“Congratulations on the promotion,” Pamela said with a smile before leaning further in. “You looking for some fun while you’re here? Guy or girl?”

Dean chuckled at her frankness, feeling the heat on his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Normally a hot chick but tonight I figured maybe something different.”

Her smile softened at his words and the mischief was gone from her gaze, replaced by a sweetness that left him wordless. “Honey, is it your first time trying this new thing?”

“Maybe,” he allowed, letting his eyes roam across the room for a moment.

“Well, I can help point out the ones that are potentials and the ones you should seriously avoid,” she said, the encouragement in her voice giving Dean a sense of a blooming friendship between them. “Look over there.”

Dean followed her gaze and saw a group of men in suits, filling one of the only booths in the joint, passing around bottles that looked more than what Dean made in a month.

“Douchebags,” she commented with a shake of her head. “They’re the kind that will use you for their own pleasure and then toss you aside.”

He nodded and followed her gaze again until their eyes fell on a man sitting at the bar several feet away, staring down at his beer with a cute frown. The mop of dark hair was messy atop his head, the navy shirt striking nicely against his skin.

“I think we have a winner,” Pamela said with a small laugh.

“Guy’s good-looking,” Dean said and flushed again when he heard his own voice. “Just saying, he’s probably taken or not even into guys or whatever.”

“Well, I can tell you that he’s been here for maybe twenty minutes, still on his first beer and has been hit on by two girls and one guy. Turned them all down,” Pamela explained. “But I got a feeling he’ll treat you different.”

“Sixth sense or something?” Dean asked, accepting the beer she pushed towards him.

“Or something,” she said with a wink and made her way towards the other bartender.

Dean took a large swig of his beer and took another peek at the other man. When a stool opened up a few closer to him, Dean grabbed the opportunity and took the spot. He was only four stools away, the proximity enough that he could hear the conversation when one of the douchebags Pamela had pointed out leaned on his elbow beside the man.

“Hey there,” Douchebag started and Dean had to hold back his laugh at the wiggle of brows. “You look so sexy sitting here. Figured I’d come over and warm you up.”

“Not interested,” the man replied, not even bothering to look up.

Dean took a breath at the deep, gravelly voice and felt a sudden heat spring up inside him. He peeked towards them and saw Douchebag leaning even closer, the movement making the man finally tilt his head in that direction.

“Do you not understand the meaning of no? Should I contact the Special Victims unit and see if your name is on their list?”

Douchebag stuttered in offense but quickly disappeared through the crowd. Dean watched as the man shook his head and turned back to his beer. As much as he enjoyed watching Douchebag strike out, he wasn’t sure his anxiety would make him a better replacement. He’d never picked up a guy before, never even flirted out of fear of how John would have reacted. Even now, a small part of him felt that same, irrational panic. He hadn’t seen his Father in years but a part of him was still worried the man would suddenly materialize out of thin air.

He glanced up again and watched as a woman took the stool beside the brunet. This time when the man tilted his head, Dean was finally able to see his face. The bluest eyes he had ever imagined were staring at the lady, turning her down more kindly than he had with Romantic Interest Number One. Her confident shoulders had slightly sagged but Dean watched as they parted on better terms. Knowing it was now or never, Dean took another swig of his beer. His move was disrupted by a sudden, heavy hand on his shoulder. Startled out of his comfort, he looked up to see the face he despised more than anything. The leery smile and perverted gaze sent a chill down his spine.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” the nasally voice said as the older man slightly leaned in, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath.

“Alastair,” Dean greeted, positioning his body slightly backwards.

“When are you going to let me get my hands on that perfect body?” Alastair said, his gaze growing even more twisted.

“Waiting for my date. Gotta go,” Dean replied when his eyes caught the empty stool a few feet away.  
  
Two birds with one stone. Wasn’t that the saying Sam always repeated? Sliding away from Alastair, Dean rushed forward and finally took the seat he wanted. Taking a deep breath, he turned towards Blue Eyes with fake confidence.  
  
“Rough night?”

Blue Eyes sighed heavily and twirled in his seat only to freeze when his gaze landed on Dean’s face. Their eyes locked as they stared at one another, a long, charged moment passing until both cleared their throats.

“I know this is weird to ask a total stranger,” Dean started and motioned behind his shoulder. “Do you mind pretending to be my date for a minute? Stalker alert.”

Blue Eyes let his eyes travel before meeting Dean’s gaze again. “Do you mean the old pervert throwing daggers at us?”

“That would be the one,” Dean said with a chuckle.

He wasn’t sure what he had expected but it wasn’t for Blue Eyes to turn fully in his seat towards him, reaching a possessive hand out to grip Dean at his waist. Dean had to remind himself to breathe as the move locked their knees together and brought their faces close within inches. In the near distance, he heard an angry muttering and heavy footsteps before the loud sound of the entrance slamming made its way to his ears. He figured once Alastair was gone, Blue Eyes would put distance between them and drop the charade. Instead, the man's fingers seemed to grip his side even tighter for a brief pause. Breathing deeply, Blue Eyes finally tilted away and dropped his arm back to his own lap, smiling up at Dean with a sweet tilt to his mouth.

“Thanks for that,” Dean managed, quickly reaching for his beer to drink away the dryness from his throat. “I’m Dean.”

“Castiel.”

“Cast-i-what?” he asked, loving the sound of the man's laugh.

“Castiel,” he tried again.

“Pretty unique name there, Cas,” Dean said.

Castiel smiled even brighter at the nickname but didn’t comment against it. “I had religious parents growing up.”

Dean nodded and took another drink of his beer. “So, it’s pretty obvious why I was trying to duck old pervert back there but your potentials seemed okay. Well, maybe not the douchebag in the suit.”

“Were you watching?” Cas asked, amusement in his voice.

Dean chuckled at the slip of words and shrugged. “You’re kinda hard to miss.”

When he looked up, Cas’ smile had grown softer than before. They held eyes for another few moments until the patron behind Dean bumped into him, sending him forward a few inches. He was nowhere near the danger of falling off his stool but Cas had reached out anyway, gripping his side in protection. Dean felt his entire face flush and cursed himself under his breath. Why was he acting like a teenage girl around some guy he hardly knew? Making a fool of himself every second?

“Are you alright?” that gravelly voice asked and Dean swallowed hard to stop the groan that threatened to leave his lips.

“Yeah, all good,” he managed and leaned back again, missing the warm touch when Cas removed his hand. “So, why all the doom and gloom on your face tonight?”

“It’s my birthday,” Cas said with another sigh. “My brother Gabriel dragged me out here to celebrate. This is his establishment.”

“Pretty cool place,” Dean said with a glance around them.

“Yes, but my brother always has nefarious intentions,” Cas grumbled. “He wants me to do the ‘horizontal tango’ tonight.”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at the air quotes, a flutter of butterflies erupting inside when Cas gave him another smile.

“This not really your scene?” Dean asked.

“It’s incredibly loud,” Cas replied, lifting his hand to circle above their heads. “I love my brother but how is this even considered music?”

“House music’s not for everyone. Kinda more suited for a club than a bar,” Dean said, nodding in agreement. “What kind of music you into, then?”

“Anything but this!” Cas complained, his words earning another laugh from Dean.

“How about classic rock?” he asked, leaning on his elbow. “Zeppelin, Springsteen, The Stones, Bob Seger?”

“I’ve heard of those names,” Cas said with a frown.

“You’ve heard…?” Dean started and shook his head. “Cas, that’s just sad. You need to be schooled in the art of actual music!”

Cas tilted his head in a way that made Dean’s insides turn to mush. “Are you volunteering to educate me?”

The words were innocent but Dean couldn’t stop the flush that filled his cheeks and neck again. “Yeah, you know? If you want.”

Cas straightened and smiled in a way that made Dean think the words had not been so innocent after all. “I look forward to it. As long as the music is anything but this nonsense. I’ve told Gabriel time and time again but he refuses to listen. You can hardly hear another person speak in this place. How can you be expected to carry on a conversation over all this noise?"

Dean opened his mouth but a loud beat of music made him wait until the moment was over before leaning in again. “You rather be somewhere you can focus?”

“At least I can hear my own thoughts and yours,” Cas almost shouted, the words making Dean smile for the hundredth time in ten minutes. “I mean, conversation is important, isn’t it? Or is it one glance across the bar and sex is a promise?”

Dean chuckled again and played with the label on his beer. “I’m with you there. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve had my share of one night stands but sometimes it’s good to say something more than ‘Hey, how’s it going’ before you fall into bed.”

“Like what?” Cas asked, his voice growing quieter as the volume on the next song turned down.

“Like how blue their eyes are or how the loose strands of hair keep falling into their face, making you want to run your hands through it,” Dean said, swallowing against the sudden thickness in his voice.

He waited a few beats before he found the courage to meet Cas’ eyes. What he saw was a warmth that made him never want to leave that moment.

“Are you hungry?” Cas asked after a moment. “Would you like to get out of here, get some food?”

Dean nodded without hesitation and when he reached for his wallet, Pamela had suddenly appeared before them.

“Gabe’s little brother always drinks for free,” she said and gave a wink. “So do his _friends_.”

Dean wasn’t sure how to take the words but he offered Pamela a wave and followed Cas towards the entrance. When they were out on the sidewalk, the noise of the bar now a muted sound in the distance, Dean looked up when he felt Cas gently reach for his arm.

“Pamela made it sound as if I have _friends_ with me all the time but I assure you, that’s not how it is.”

Dean felt an ease settle inside him. The pang of jealousy had been irrational but somehow, Cas had been able to see through him. Somehow, Cas had known how to ease his wandering thoughts.

“There’s a diner just up the road. Is that good enough?” Dean asked and when Cas gave a nod, they slowly made their way. “I didn’t mean to poke fun at your name earlier."

“It’s fine,” Cas said, reaching out to squeeze his arm again. “Gabriel calls me Cassie all the time. _That_ I despise.”

Dean chuckled, rubbing his arm in the same spot without realizing his own movements. “I was named after my Grandma. Her name was Deanna. My younger brother got Samuel or Sam as he goes by now, after our Grandfather. I call him Sammy or Samantha to tick him off. But when we were being born, somehow I was the one getting named after a girl.”

“Mother or Father’s side?” Cas asked, the smile not leaving his face.

“My Mom’s.”

“I take it you complained a lot to your Mother growing up?”

“Nah,” Dean said, his voice growing quiet. “She died when I was four. Never really got around to it.”

He felt another grip and this time, Cas had taken his hand. Their fingers slowly twined in a way lovers reached for each other after years of togetherness. It was so soon to feel this way for a stranger but as much as Dean felt nervous, something in Cas’ eyes grounded him. It felt right, standing there, holding hands.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said, his voice holding a tenderness Dean had never felt in his twenty-eight years of existence.

What he wanted was to reach out and pull Cas against him, to lose himself in those Blue Eyes, feel the touch of his lips and a strong embrace around him. He wanted so much so quickly that it scared Dean back a step. Before Cas could extract himself and free their hands, Dean’s eyes caught sight of an eyelash. Swallowing hard, he reached up with a slightly shaky hand and pulled the lash from Cas’ cheek.

“It’s your birthday,” he said, his voice intimate between them. “Make a wish.”

“I think it already came true,” Cas murmured but he blew the lash anyway.

They stared at each other for another beat, completely lost in the moment. The door to the diner opened behind them, yanking them out of their trance. Exchanging smiles, they made their way inside and Dean couldn’t help but grin when he felt a faint press of fingers at the small of his back. They reached an empty booth and Dean slid inside, inwardly glad when Cas moved to sit directly beside him, personal space be damned. The waitress was younger than Dean, smiling brightly when she reached them.

“I admit, I’m not a diner enthusiast,” Cas said and quickly sat up to correct himself. “That didn’t come out right. I have nothing against these establishments.”

“Let me guess, you’re a health freak?” Dean asked with a roll of his eyes. “You and Sam will get along great.”

Cas gave a pleased smile as Dean looked down, once more realizing what he had said. “I’m not a health freak, Dean. I just meant I hardly have time for sustenance. Whatever you choose, I’ll be happy to eat it.”

“Well, isn’t he sweet?” the waitress said, tossing Dean a wink. “Seems like a keeper.”

Dean cleared this throat and ordered burgers, fries and sweet tea for them both. When the waitress left their drinks and disappeared behind the counter, Dean gave a chuckle that had Cas turning towards him.

“I’m not good at this,” he started, smiling at the head tilt he had already grown to love.

“Having dinner?” Cas asked. “Meeting new people?”

“Going on dates with other guys,” Dean said with a shake of his head. “I’ve never…I’ve never been…”

Cas was smart enough to understand his meaning and reached under the table to take Dean’s hand in his own. The touch settled the nerves threatening to rise and Dean released a grateful sigh in reply.

“Is this a date?” Cas asked, the tease in his voice making Dean laugh.

“You want it to be?”

Leaning forward, Cas let his free hand run across Dean’s temple, cupping his cheek at the end. “Yes.”

“Awesome,” Dean said but before either could say anything further, their food was pushed towards them.

Dean caught another wink from the waitress before she walked away. He rolled his eyes and rose to his feet. “Gonna use the restroom. Be right back.”

Cas gave a smile and Dean forced his legs to move through the diner. When he was standing in front of the sink, splashing cold water on his face, he shut the faucet and looked up at his own reflection.

“Get a grip, Winchester!” he berated himself. “You’re having dinner with a really sweet, ridiculously good-looking guy. Dad’s not here anymore. Its just you and Cas. You’re getting to know him. Everything’s good. Stop acting like a pre-pubescent teenage girl.”

The pep talk was enough to calm himself down. Once his face and hands were dry, he left the restroom and made his way back. Cas had tilted his body in the other direction, unable to see Dean as he approached, phone pressed to his ear.

“I think it may be a late one tonight,” Cas spoke in the phone. “No, I’m busy at work. Don’t think I’ll be home until late. Don't wait up.”

The words were enough to stop Dean in his tracks, a few feet away from the booth. An anger began to boil inside him, his hands folding over into fists. Of course Cas was married or had another partner. How could anyone like him be single? Dean felt like he deserved the grand prize for World's Biggest Idiot, falling for the first smile and sweet words he'd been given that night. Cas had turned everyone else down, waiting for the one person who was worth his time, worth cheating on whoever his partner was, waiting for him back at home. That’s all Dean was after all. A way to pass the time. A way for people to meet their needs before tossing him aside. His Dad’s words had never rung more true as he took a step back.

“Don't wait up. I'll see you in the morning. I love you, too.” 

When Cas lowered his phone, Dean was halfway out the door. Startled by the departure, Cas was up on his feet, chasing him outside within seconds.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Cas exclaimed, reaching for his arm to spin him around.

“Get off me!” he snapped, yanking his hand away. “Just get off me.”

“Dean, I don’t understand. What happened? What did I do?” Cas pleaded, confusion bursting through.

“Nothing, Cas. Nothing at all. It’s my fault for being such an idiot,” Dean spat before he turned on his heels and jogged down the road, ignoring the looks he received from people all around.

He could hear Cas calling his name another few times but ignored it as he ran. When he was back behind Baby’s wheel, tearing away from the curb, he hated the tears that were beginning to fill his eyes. It wasn’t until he was parked in his driveway, hands tight on the wheel when he let his frustration out. Thumping his head down, he closed his eyes and let John’s words fill his ears in the darkness of the night. That’s all Dean was. Just a way to pass time.


End file.
